Page 60 of Lift Me Up

His tone is amused. "Welcome to my world. This is the high you give me, every damn time."

Sighing and nuzzling into his chest, I close my eyes and let my body work itself out. It knows what it needs to do, and I can just relish in the feeling of Noah's arms around me. "I like it here."

"I love... this. I love everything about this," Noah says and I nod in agreement. I love you too.

I don't know how much time passes when he tells me we should clean up, I almost think to argue and protest, but then my brain yells at me that if I don't, it's only going to get worse. So, I let him help me, absolutely boneless and begging for sleep as he lowers me into the bath, the hot water surrounding me and relaxing every aching muscle. I didn't realize he'd drawn a bath, but he used the Epsom salts and the bath bomb he knows makes my skin feel better, and I love that he joins me, my back to his chest. His fingers draw the water over my chest, my sides, he keeps me warm with his body and the water and it's easy to just take this all in. It's a whole new world.

We stay like this until we're properly pruned, and only then do we slip under the sheets of the bed. I look and see a notification on my phone.

Franny

keeping the babies for the night. enjoy xxx

That's all I need to be able to snuggle into Noah and let everything else fade away.

Pure bliss.

In the late hours of the night, or maybe the morning, we find ourselves awake and hungry. The snacks he brings in from the kitchen are just the right thing, crackers and a cheese ball that we absolutely inhale. It's just enough, and when we fall back into bed, we talk about whatever comes to mind. These conversations in the dark are some of my favourites because it tells me more about him than I ever thought I'd know. It makes me love him even more.

"Tell me something good?" I ask him softly. I can feel his smile as he kisses my bare shoulder. He thinks about it for a minute, a long humming sound rumbling in his chest.

“I like lists,” he tells me, and though he can't see it, I roll my eyes.

“Ok, why do you like lists?” I ask.

He hums like he’s thinking again. “I think I like having a set number of things laid out so I don’t forget them. It could be a grocery list, it could be things I have to do, it could be things I just want to remember. But I like that these things are all in one place, and it’s really gratifying and makes me feel good to cross something off once it’s finished.”

"Is that what those papers lying around your apartment were?"

"Guilty."

I want to snort out a laugh, but he's being honest and real, and I don't want him to think that I think his admission is anything other than what it is: adorable and sweet. “What’s your favourite kind of list?”

“Check lists. No, favourite lists.”

“Wait. Favourite lists are your favourite kind of list? Do you hear how that sounds?”

He laughs at this, his chest rising and falling with each intake. “I do. But it’s true. A list of my favourite things makes me happy.”

“Because they’re your… favourite?” I supply.

He kisses my neck as a reward. “Exactly. But check lists are a close second. Don’t you like seeing things on a list being crossed off, showing what you’ve accomplished?”

“Half the time, my lists go uncrossed off, or they get lost before I even finish anything… so what does that tell you?”

He tuts, shaking his head in admonishment. “Tragic. Truly tragic.”

I smile. “Tell me, what’s on your favourites list right now?”

“Well, it depends on the list itself, I guess. Do you mean music, movies, foods—” He continues to list possibilities for lists, and I groan.

“Oh man, you’ve really thought this through! You’re such a nerd!” I tease.

He scoffs again, this time in mock-defense, “That’s a listophile to you.”

“Is that even a real word?”

“I don’t know. I’ve seen it used in Facebook list-making groups⁠—”